


Worth It

by StormageddonDarkLadyOfAll



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blackmail, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Pregnancy, Romance, Smut, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 15:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17748221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormageddonDarkLadyOfAll/pseuds/StormageddonDarkLadyOfAll
Summary: Hermione has been summoned to Lucius Malfoy to discuss her role in Draco's life now the two are engaged. When Hermione is faced with blackmail, will she choose to walk away from Draco or will she decide that Draco, and the life they couold have together, is worth it?Written for the Strictly Dramione 2019 SmutFest.





	Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to PotionChemist, LadyKenz347 and Sonomia for Beta-ing, and to LadyKenz347 for the beautiful artwork!  
> My prompt was number 97: Hide your Phi Beta Kappa key, if you own one- later on, Junior can play with it!  
> From what I understand, Phi Beta Kappa is a college fraternity/ sorority house and a key from such a house is something you get at either graduation or upon being accepted into the organisation- I'm not entirely sure. Hiding it, I believe, is to hide the fact that you went to college and hiding your education and knowledge. I think this prompt means to drop your education to become a housewife to seduce whatever man you're hoping to snag.  
> As you can imagine, this was difficult to write for Hermione, but I think I came up with a conceivable option for that- I hope so anyway.  
> Anyways, please let me know what you think.  
> Enjoy, have fun, say hi.

  
  
  
  
Hermione sat straight up on a velvet-lined chair, staring at the back of Lucius Malfoy while he gazed into the fireplace, hands folded neatly behind his back, combed hair falling elegantly down his shoulders.  
  
She kept her hands folded in her lap, her legs crossed at the ankles, trying desperately not to fidget, not to show how absolutely terrified she was, sitting here in the very room she was tortured in all those years ago.  
  
She knew it was a power play on Lucius’ part, as it always was, and she was determined to appear completely nonchalant but her insides were screaming, he pulse pounding in her ears so loud she was afraid he could hear it from where he was standing.

“Miss Granger, I suppose you’re wondering why I summoned you here today.” Lucius said, sounding bored yet dignified, his enunciation practised and precise.

Hermione took a moment to reflect on the fact that Lucius Malfoy probably hadn’t been waiting his whole life to say those words. In fact, she pondered, it was probably the third or fourth time he had said that this week.

“Well, to be honest, Lucius, I have a bit of an idea.” She replied solidly, purposefully using his first name in order to take some of her power back. She bit back a smirk at his slight wince. “You wish for me and Draco to call the wedding off. You’re hoping we will break up to a public scandal, where it will be revealed that my baby is not a Malfoy at all, but the product of a drunken night of whoring, which is to be expected from a mudblood like me.” Finally, Lucius turned away from the fire, and Hermione saw that he was smirking, a smug, triumphant glint in his eyes magnified by the light from the fire.

“It’s almost pathetically predictable that you would jump to that conclusion, Miss Granger.” He informed her frankly. “No, my intentions were not as… vulgar as all that.”

“Do enlighten me, then.” Hermione tried to keep her hands from balling into fists. Taking his time, Lucius strolled over to the drink cart, pouring himself a glass of some amber liquid, and taking a leisurely seat at the chair opposite Hermione- she noticed that Lucius’ chair was an inch or two higher than hers and fought back a groan at the obvious power play.

“The reason I asked you here is to get you to understand the role you will play in Draco’s life.” Lucius paused, and Hermione blinked a few times, trying to understand what he meant. “I see I’ve confused you, Miss Granger. Let me clarify: Now that you’ve accepted Draco’s hand in marriage, there are certain things that are expected from you. While I cannot deny that Draco’s marriage to you will help our family’s social standing, I do still have some control over the House of Malfoy, and there are certain traditions I will not turn my back on.

“Now, I recognise that Draco’s relationship with you and the rest of that Order of the Phoenix has exponentially driven up regard for our family after the War, and the fact that he is now engaged to you and has… impregnated you has only increased that regard. However, I still do not and will not forget the old ways.”

“What are you getting at, Lucius?” Hermione finally demanded, laying a protective hand over her belly, and trying for all she was worth to keep her voice level and steady.

“What I’m getting at, Miss Granger, is that while I can tolerate having a muggle-born for a daughter-in-law, and though I can accept having half-bloods as my grandchildren- while I can live with the horror of having my glorious and ancient bloodline tarnished with filthy muggle blood if it means the continuation of the Malfoy line, there is one thing I will not allow.”

“And what is that, Lucius?” She tried to sound bored and disinterested, but she was sure it sounded as though she couldn’t catch her breath.

“I will not- I cannot- live with the shame of having a career-woman as a daughter-in-law.” Silence reigned for a few moments, until finally, Hermione snorted into her hands and collapsed into laughter. She squirmed in her chair as chortles of giggles left her lips. “Do you think I am joking, Miss Granger?” He demanded, sounding shocked at her reaction.

“You have to be, Lucius!” She finally stopped laughing, and sat up straight in her chair again, her mouth curved into a grin. “Do you seriously think I’m going to give up my job and dreams to become a housewife?”

“Dreams are for fools, Miss Granger. You must have realised that by now.”

“I am not quitting my job, Lucius. I will not allow you or anyone tell me what I can achieve in my life.” Hermione stated harshly, beginning to stand. “Now, I’m going to go home to my fiancé. I’ll do you a favour and not tell him about this ridiculous conversation.” She turned to leave, but didn’t reach that door before Lucius spoke again. He sounded almost amused.

“I am not surprised you took it this way, Miss Granger. However, I am surprised you seriously thought that words were all I came equipped with.” She stopped, her hand hovering over the doorknob. “Tell me, Miss Granger, have you ever heard of Vector, Zephyr and Doyle?”

“Of course, I have. They’re the best wizarding lawyers in the country.” Impatiently, Hermione turned around, unsure about where Lucius was going with this.

“There’s the renowned brain of the Brightest Witch.” Lucius drawled mockingly, taking a generous sip of his amber drink. “It just so happens that Vector, Zephyr and Doyle have been the Malfoy family’s attorneys since the days of my great grandfather.” Sweat began to bloom on Hermione’s brow and the palms of her hands. She didn’t like where this was going.

“What’s your point, Lucius?”

“My point, Miss Granger, is that if you do not do exactly as I say- if you do not give up with ludicrous fantasy of being the world’s greatest healer and become what Draco and the Malfoy line requires of you, I will set Vector, Zephyr and Doyle upon you with all the power I possess.” Slowly, Lucius stood up and began to walk towards her. Hermione felt the blood rush from her head to her feet, leaving her lightheaded and gasping for air. “I will make it clear that you are so damaged from the effects of the war, so broken by what you experienced here, in this very room, that you are a danger- not only to yourself, but to Draco and, more importantly, to the child growing in your womb.” Without thinking, Hermione wrapped protective arms around her middle and took one more step back, before realising she was pinned between Lucius and the door. “I will have you thrown into St Mungo’s with the Longbottom’s and that mumbling buffoon, Lockhart without even blinking, and you will never set foot out of that hospital. You will never see your friends again. You will never see Draco again. And you will never even meet your child.” By now, he was right on top of her, his body mere millimetres from hers, smirking down at her triumphantly, knowing with a terrible certainty that he had her right where he wanted her.

“But… you can’t- that’s blackmail!” She cried, trying to find something to say that would make this all go away.

“Oh, no, Miss Granger,” Lucius drawled. “That’s chess. And from what I understand, that always was the one thing you could never excel at.” Leaning around her, he turned the knob and slowly opened the door, gesturing for her to leave. “Do tell Draco I said ‘hello’, won’t you? Good day, Miss Granger.”

DM – HG – DM – HG

Hermione arrived back in home in her and Draco’s flat in a complete daze. How had that conversation gone so horribly wrong? She had always known that Lucius still believed as he had in the War, but she had never realised he was this- she couldn’t think of the right word.

Maniacal? Power-hungry? Conniving? Misogynistic?

Maybe evil was the right term, but the word seemed too small to carry such huge meaning. How could he demand this of her? How could he think that this was acceptable? How could he sit there in the drawing room where she was mutilated and carry on this sort of conversation as though it was something as simple and banal as a chat about the weather or… Quiddich?

What was she going to do? How could she just give up everything she had worked so hard for? How could she turn her back on the teachings of her mother and father? How could she spit in the face of all those brave women who had given their lives for her to live as she wanted- to choose the career and path she wanted, to make the decision to have kids or not, to decide whether to live as an independent woman or be a housewife? How could she turn her back on the ability to choose? But- what else could she do?

She had no trouble imagining that Lucius wasn’t just threatening. He probably already had his attorneys ready and raring to go, trembling at the idea of taking down Potter’s Mudblood Pet. What was she going to do?

“Hello, love,” She suddenly heard, Draco’s low voice pulling her from her ponderings, smiling down at her from the threshold of the kitchen, white blond hair flopping into his grey eyes- the kind of grey eyes that people always described as cold, but when looking at her, always seemed full of fire and warmth.

He was still wearing his work clothes- a white button-down, long sleeve shirt, perfectly creased, pinstripe suit-slacks. He’d taken his blazer off and thrown it over the back of the chair in the living room, Hermione knew. That was always the first thing he did when he came home. He came home, took off his jacket, threw it onto the back of a recliner in the living room, then went to make himself a cup of chamomile tea, with honey and sugar, with just a splash of cold milk. Hermione had always thought it was a strange mix, but had stopped questioning it pretty quickly. Then he would take his cup of tea and find a coaster, walk into the living room and place his cup on the coaster on their small coffee table and flick through the paper, reaching forward every few minutes to sip his tea.

And after he had read the paper front to back, he would carry his finished cup of tea to the sink, wash it, place it back in the cupboard and come back to the living room, grab Hermione from wherever she was and pull her into his lap, telling her to explain every second of her day to him while he softly kissed the side of her neck and held her close. It was so routine now. She had never known that life could be this simple, this comforting.

And she never would have expected it from Draco Malfoy.

When they had met again after Hogwarts, it had been because Draco had fallen off his broom during a friendly Quiddich match and broken his arm and Hermione had treated him. For some reason, they hadn’t immediately tried to kill each other and by the end of that encounter, Draco had asked Hermione out for coffee ‘just to catch up’. Oddly, Hermione had said yes, and soon, they were meeting up for coffee weekly. Harry and Ron had taken issue with her sudden friendship with Draco, thinking that she must be either possessed, imperio’d or suffering too much stress from work and it was making her a little mental.

She had finally convinced them, after many threats of hexes and violence, to meet up with Draco and herself down at the pub. She didn’t know how it happened, but one minute they were glaring at each other across the table and the next, they were discussing Quiddich references she didn’t understand and then all of a sudden, Draco, Ron, Harry and even Ginny were having regular Quiddich games in the Burrow yard.

Hermione wasn’t quite sure when things between her and Draco had changed, but on New Year’s Eve that year, when midnight was called, she had found herself clinging to Draco as he kissed her, holding her small frame to his lithe one, running his hands through her hair and smiling as she mewled into his mouth.

They had stumbled their way into his bedroom, falling gracelessly onto his bed, Hermione landing on top of him, moving to straddle him while kissing him till she couldn’t breathe. When she had started unclasping the buttons of his shirt, he had reached for her and pushed her gently away, holding her head in his hands, demanding her to look him in the eye.

“Hermione, are you sure?” He had whispered. “Are you absolutely sure?” Instead of speaking, Hermione had tried again to undress him, but he pulled away once more, determined for her to say the words out loud.

“I’m sure.” She had growled, frustrated at the lack of movement and touching, frantic for him to kiss her again.

“Hermione, stop.” Draco had demanded, and when Hermione looked into his eyes and saw how fiery they were, how the grey and blue flecks in his eyes smouldered with warmth and desire- desire for her. “I need to know that you want this- that you aren’t going to regret this in the morning. I need to know that this won’t hurt our friendship.” The hands on her face softened, and he had softly hooked her hair behind her ears tracing the lines of her cheekbones and jawlines. “I don’t want to lose you, love.”

And Hermione had paused, and realised what he meant. She had leaned forward and softly placed her lips on his, tracing her fingers over his chest. When she drew away, she had smiled at him, no longer fighting a losing battle with her lust, but completely wrapped in the moment, knowing with absolute certainty that this was what she wanted.

“Draco,” She had said simply. “I want this. I want you.”

And he had reached up and kissed her and drew her under him. And now, as Hermione stared at her fiancé, looking roguish and handsome, even with a cup of chamomile tea in his hand, she knew it was still true- she wanted this. She wanted him. And maybe- maybe- that would be enough.

“Are you alright?” Draco asked, sounding concerned that she had been quiet for so long.

“I- I just-” She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if she should tell Draco about all this.

She didn’t want to drive him even further away from his family- she had only just convinced him to invite them to the wedding! As she stumbled over her words, Draco put his cup down in the kitchen and walked over to her, taking her hand and looking worriedly into her eyes. Hermione tried desperately not to cry, cursing her pregnancy hormones because she didn’t want to believe that she was so actively scared of Lucius Malfoy that he could actually make her cry.

“What happened?” Draco inquired, using that deep voice that always made her weak at the knees.

“I had a conversation with your father today and-”

“Hermione, I’ve told you not to do that! You don’t have to talk to him every time he 'summons' you.” Draco exclaimed exasperatedly, and even though he didn’t release her hands, Hermione knew he was using quotation marks on the word ‘summons’. “It only upsets you.”

“I know, I know.” She tried to laugh it off. “I just wanted to know what he was thinking, you know?” She sniffed, embarrassed by her reaction. “It’s just a bit overwhelming at the moment being in that house.”

“I know it is, love. It always is.” Draco paused, and when he started speaking again, his voice was unsure. “Do you want me to speak with him about it or is this one of those situations where you refuse to be a damsel in distress and I’m just supposed to listen and nod and occasionally say ‘that sucks’?” Hermione let out a loose chuckle.

“The second one I think.” She said, smiling properly for first time in what felt like hours.

Draco smiled back at her, his eyes growing fond and soft, and leant down to briefly brush his lips across hers. Without thinking, Hermione’s arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him closer, pushing her body fully into his. His hands came around her waist, his tongue swiping questioningly along her bottom lip, and she opened for him, delighting in the feel if his tongue dancing with hers and he drew her thigh up and over his hip. He pulled away after a few seconds and frowned at her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked. “Don’t get me wrong, I love this, but are you sure you want-”

“Stop talking and take me to bed.” She growled, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his waist, pressing her core against him wildly, searching for any kind of friction she could get. His hands caught her, taking a possessive hold of her arse as he took her bottom lip in his teeth and pulled, walking in the direction of the bedroom. This had always made sense. This had always been the best thing between them.

Even when they were fighting, she and Draco had always been perfect together- their bodies moving so perfectly with each other, she could almost be convinced that they were meant to be together. He laid her gently down on their four-poster bed, keeping a knee in between her thighs as he kissed her even deeper, his hands tracing along her sides in gentle whispers of motion. Once again, though, it wasn’t long before he pulled away again, and Hermione resisted the urge to pout.

“I’m only going to ask you this one more time, Hermione.” He growled, and Hermione could see how much she had affected him by the look on his face and the speed of his breath, which ghosted across her face in a gentle breeze. “Are you sure you want to do this now?” Hermione knew why he was being so forceful in this question and she loved him for it.

He was being careful of her emotions, like he always was. He was mindful and sweet and sensitive and perfect, and he knew that sometimes her emotions made her act recklessly and carelessly, made her do things she regretted later. But she could never regret this.

She could never regret a single moment of being with Draco.

“Please,” She begged, rising from the bed and reaching for him. “Please, I want you, Draco. Please.”

Finally, Draco’s face melted into a satisfied grin, like a cat with cream, and he stood up from the bed and began to peel off his clothes. The button-down shirt went first- he took his time releasing his cuffs and then slowly unbuttoning each catch, revealing more and more of his god-like chest and torso- muscles that were toned and hard and rippling under pale, smooth skin. Hermione could do nothing but stare as he unbuttoned and lowered his slacks, standing before her in nothing but boxer briefs, smirking as her eyes narrowed on his tented underwear.

“You like?” He purred, and Hermione nodded, not taking her eyes off him for a moment.

She fought back a shiver at the look in his eyes, a burning intensity she loved to see, knowing that it was only a desire for her that made him look like that.

“Take off your clothes, love.” He growled, reaching for her hand to help her stand.

She hurried to follow his direction, ripping off her jeans, shirt, bra and undies, standing before him completely nude, her self-consciousness about her body having been forgotten years ago, wiped away by how this man made her feel. Draco took a moment to rake his eyes over her form, pausing for brief moments over her breasts, the curve of her waist and the soft patch of hair over her mound and core, and she felt a dampness there as just his eyes glazed over her, her breath catching in her throat as she waited for what would happen next.

He took her by surprise by grabbing her roughly and spinning her around to the dresser, lifting her arse up onto it and kissing her mouth harshly and savagely. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair as she moaned into his mouth. Their tongues battled for dominance as his fingers traced over her sides, gently touching all those sensitive places that made her shudder and her breath catch, she pressed herself tighter against him, rubbing her core against him, desperate for friction, and he chuckled, lifting his mouth from her and ghosting his lips down her neck and collarbone, sucked and nipping gently.

“You’re impatient tonight, love.” He teased, his hands coming up to stroke the underside of her breasts.

“Please stop teasing me.” She begged him, squirming as she tried to get his hands where she wanted them.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He whispered, before sinking to his knees in front of her and burying his face in her core.

She threw her head back as she groaned and pushed his face deeper into her dripping pussy, wanting his tongue and lips deeper. Her hips began to rock against his face and she jerked when she felt his hands creep up her front and gently squeeze and torment her nipples, his tongue moving faster against her clit.

“Oh, fuck- Draco. Christ, Draco, that feels- ooh!” Hermione wailed as she felt that familiar tension pool low in her belly, and she marvelled at how quickly he was able to get her there, right at the precipice of bliss.

Draco’s hands moved down to her thighs, keeping her legs open and flicking his tongue faster against her clit, making soft, growling sounds that vibrated against her centre.

“Please, please, I need more, Draco, please!” She didn’t even know what she was saying anymore, and she threw one hand behind her, grasping onto the dresser mirror, taking a firm hold of Draco’s hair as that coil in her stomach wound tighter and tighter.

When he inserted a long finger into her passage and stroked along that perfect spot, she exploded.

She let out a long moan of ecstasy as stars burst behind her eyelids, throwing her head back as her legs shook and her walls clamped around Draco’s finger. Draco let out a husky moan as he felt her convulse around his finger and mouth, and he kept touching her to draw out her orgasm, before rising up before her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him to her as she placed kisses all over his jaw and neck. Jumping down from the dresser, she sank to her knees before him, lowered his pants and sucked his shaft into her mouth.

“Fuuuuuuuck me, woman!” He groaned, his hands coming to gently cradle her jaw as she slowly began to take his cock into her mouth. “That mouth of yours- fuck that feels good.” Hermione moaned at the praise, her hands resting on the back of his thighs as she took him deeper and deeper into her mouth, sucking and licking him, looking up towards his face.

His eyes blazed as he watched her, his fingers fluttering along her jawline as she began to go faster. He raised his eyebrows at her, asking a silent question, and when she nodded, he started thrusting into her mouth, holding his cock at the back of her throat for a few seconds before pulling out. Hermione widened her mouth for him, her hands cradling his balls.

“Such a good girl.” Draco whispered, fucking her mouth a little harder and faster. “You love having my cock in your mouth, don’t you? You love it when I fuck your mouth.” She closed her eyes at the dirty language, feeling a blush bloom across her face, circling the head of his cock with her tongue.

After a few more thrusts, he pulled her up into a standing position, his breath leaving him in huffed pants, and he pulled her mouth to his, trailing his hands over her shoulders, waist, breasts and finally settling on her arse, kneading the soft flesh possessively. Hermione moaned as they kissed, delighting in the fact that this never got old- that this fire always remained there, constant and unwavering, and the unwelcome thought of her conversation with Lucius entered her mind.

How could she think of giving this up? She knew that just for one second, she had seriously thought of walking away from Draco, keeping her goals and dreams as the foremost important thing in her mind. But how could she leave this? How could she possibly have thought that giving up this- the burning, fiery, perfect certainty that was Draco- would somehow be acceptable? That somehow, she could get on with her life and live without him? The choice that Lucius had given her was wrong and disgusting, but in the end, it wasn’t a choice. She would always choose Draco, because he would always be worth it.

And as he kissed her, as he slowly lowered her down to the four poster bed, as he slowly and reverently pressed himself inside her and started to move, she could think of nothing else in the world that would ever be more important than this. Nothing in the world that she wouldn’t give up for this.

“Draco… oh my god, Draco, I love you! I love you so much!” She whimpered, feeling the perfect fullness of him inside her, moving so deliciously.

She grasped at his shoulders and pushed him away a few millimetres to gaze into his eyes, placing her hands on his cheek, running her fingers along his prominent cheekbones. Draco didn’t seem to be able to speak, but the look on his face and in his eyes spoke volumes. He turned his head to kiss her palm, and reached down a hand to softly rub against her sensitive folds, finding her clit and pressing against it, knowing it wouldn’t take much for he to find her ending.

“I want to watch you come apart for me.” He told her simply, and that was all it took.

As Hermione climaxed again, closing her eyes against the flood of sensation, she cried out his name, and Draco followed after her, his arms clenching around her and holding her tightly to his chest, whispering his love for her in her ear. After getting their breath back, Draco rolled off her and pulled her onto his chest, kissing the top of her bushy head. It wasn’t for a few minutes that they finally spoke, and Draco’s voice was amused.

“I forgot to mention- you know how Witch Weekly is doing a collection of their most noted articles for the seventy-five year anniversary thing?”

“Yeah?” Hermione replied, moving to the other side of the bed as Draco reached for a magazine on his nightstand.

“Well, this is one that came out in 1958- this should give you a laugh.” He handed her the magazine and pointed to the article in question: ‘129 Ways to Get a Husband’.

Hermione chuckled and thumbed open the magazine, going directly to the article page.

As she quickly scanned it, one in particular caught her eye: ‘Hide your Hogwarts key if you own one- later on, Junior can play with it.’ Hermione’s whole body froze, and her mind started to spin.

Wasn’t that exactly what Lucius was asking her to do? Something as ridiculous as an outdated rule from the 50’s.

“Honestly, some of these are gold! But anyway, I’m going to pop to the shower, and then we can go out for dinner, alright?” Draco said, not noticing the turmoil going on in her head. He leaned over to her and kissed her cheek, walking towards the bathroom. “Hey, Hermione?” She finally looked up from the magazine, blinking for a couple of seconds to come back to earth.

She faked a smile, trying to resist the ridiculous urge to check out her fiancé’s beautiful, naked form.

 “Yeah?” She replied vaguely, and Draco suddenly beamed, his eyes shining with fondness and love.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”


End file.
